Babysitting Is Not For The Faint Of Heart
by BiteMeTechie
Summary: Apparently, it's not for Rodney McKay either.


More short, late night stupidity courtesy of Techie.

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Rodney McKay sat, notebook and coffee cup in hand, working out a few of the discrepancies in one of Zelenka's latest theories about regenerating the power with a Zero Point Module by using the power generated by the whoosh of an incoming wormhole.

Whoosh, while not a technical term, is the proper one to use in this instance.

However, no matter how hard McKay tried, he simply could _not_ concentrate.

It might have had something to do with the fact that the seat he was currently occupying was moving.

A _lot_.

Rodney was seated on a sofa in his quarters which, up until tonight, had never shown any symptoms of independent movement.

Now though...

"Will you _STOP_ that?" Rodney asked exasperatedly, turning on the small girl who was hopping up and down on the sofa cushion next to him.

The girl stopped bouncing momentarily, "Why?"

"Because it's _irritating_ me."

"Daddy says irritating you is one of the city's oldest and most sacred traditions," the little girl answered before she started bouncing again.

Rodney just stared straight ahead, trying to will the vein in his forehead to stop throbbing.

He had been extremely patient, in his opinion, since the girl's parents dropped her off some forty five minutes ago, but what this four year old was putting him through was bordering on insanity.

Rodney was relatively certain that, while children in general were maddening enough, _this_ one was simply _beyond_ annoying.

Took after her father, apparently.

"Uncle Rodney-"

"_Don't_ call me that," McKay snarked, trying to keep his currently sloshing coffee in it's cup, "I am **not** your uncle."

"Daddy says-"

"I don't _care_ what your daddy says. It's _Doctor_ McKay to you, same as it is for everyone else on this God forsaken planet."

The girl stuck out her bottom lip, thinking that the patented cute little girl pout was going to work on Rodney McKay.

Not surprisingly, it didn't.

"Nice try," McKay said, turning back to his notebook.

The girl sighed and flopped down on the couch next to the cranky physicist.

Rodney _tried_ to ignore the little pair of green eyes that were watching him intently, but found it to be more unnerving than when his cat would watch him work.

And if you've ever had a feline unwaveringly watch your every movement, you know how creepy it is.

He shifted uneasily on the sofa and took a sip of his coffee.

As he did so, he saw out of the corner of his eye that the kid had inched _ever_ so slightly closer to him.

He, in response, edged ever so slightly away.

The girl edged even closer.

And Rodney edged even _further_ away, keeping one eye on the notes in his hand, and the other on the little beast who was encroaching on his personal territory.

She would shorten the distance between the two of them by an inch, and he would widen it anew by backing _away_ an inch.

It was a vicious cycle.

Pretty soon, Rodney had run out of couch to scoot over on.

He turned to glare at the small child who had managed to force him to the very edge of his seat.

She was looking at him with wide, almost innocent eyes and an impish grin.

She knew. She _knew_ that she had won this round. He could go no further without falling out in the floor.

Which probably would've just amused her.

Most definitely her father's daughter.

"What **do** you want?"

"What're you dooooooin'?" She asked sweetly, completely ignoring the death glare that Rodney was directing at her.

"Nothing."

"Yes you are. What're you doing?"

"Allow me to rephrase," McKay snapped at her harshly, "It's nothing, as in nothing that concerns annoying, irritating and wholly beastly little children who're-No wait, don't _cry_."

Her eyes had welled up within seconds of the beginning of his diatribe, and Rodney was suddenly struck by just how amazing it was that something that small could hold that much water.

There seemed to be moisture leaking out of every orifice in her face.

"No, no. Oh come _on_. You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Unsure of what to do, he looked skyward, almost like he expected some kind of advice to pour out of the ceiling.

It didn't.

So, he was forced to wing it.

Rodney set his coffee cup down on the table to the left of the sofa arm and awkwardly reached out his hand, giving the little girl's shoulder a pat, "Uh...there, there."

The girl took his awkward gesture as a prompt to launch herself at him and clung to his chest, knocking the wind out of him in the process.

"Gack!" Was the noise that erupted from Rodney at the forty pound weight that had just wrapped it's surprisingly strong little arms around him.

"You're crushing my ribs!" He whined.

She loosened her grip on him slightly and rubbed her wet face in his chest.

Oh, now you just _knew_ that was going to stain.

She continued to sniffle and Rodney's arms remained limp at his sides, as he was quite unsure as to what to do with them.

After several seconds of uncertainty, he raised one of his hands and patted her on the head mechanically.

Which, amazingly, seemed to work.

It wasn't five minutes before the kid was back to being just as happy, smiley and obnoxious as she had been _before_ her fit of tears.

The only thing that Rodney could think of at this sight was just how exhausting it must be to be on that sort of emotional roller coaster on a constant basis. Bouncing around one minute, crying the next, and then bouncing around a minute after that.

It boggled the mind.

Of course, after a few minutes of the bouncing, Rodney was almost beginning to miss the crying, because at least _then_ his body wasn't being jarred to the point it felt like there was internal damage being done.

"Uncle Rodney-"

"Excuse me, I thought we covered this."

"Uncle Rodney-"

"What did I _just_ say?"

"Uncle Rodney-"

He sighed, "What?"

"I forgot."

McKay blinked twice and sighed before turning back to his work.

"Uncle Rodney?"

He ignored her.

"Uncle Rodneeeeey?"

With his face in an expression of pure annoyance and long suffering, he ventured once again, "What?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

Oh. The kid was interested in science. Ok, Rodney's opinion of her just went up a few notches.

"Well, it has to do with the atmosphere, which is-"

"Why is there atmosphere?"

"If you hadn't cut me off, I-"

"Why is there atmosphere?" She repeated.

"Because we have to breathe, now back to the-"

"Why do we have to breathe?"

Rodney got annoyed, "Who are you, Barbara Walters?"

"Who's Barbara Walters?"

"Barbara Walters is a journalist who-"

"What's a journalist?"

"A reporter. Now getting back to the-"

"What's a reporter?"

It went on like this for close to fifteen minutes.

Rodney was fast being driven to the brink of madness by this unassuming little girl with the big, _big_ green eyes and seemingly irrepressable curiosity.

Just as Rodney was preparing himself to find a means of suicide that wouldn't be too terribly painful, the door opened with a 'Shluck' noise and the child's parents entered, talking and laughing with each other.

Rodney had never been quite so relieved in all his life.

Alright, so that time when he finally got out of that puddle jumper that had been stuck at the bottom of the ocean came pretty close.

"Daddy!" The girl shouted joyously, launching herself off the couch and into John's waiting arms.

She very nearly knocked him off his feet with the force of her embrace, but rather than allowing himself to be bowled over, he dropped to his knees so that she could stand before him.

"Thank God you're here!" Rodney exclaimed, jumping to his feet a little too eagerly once the kid was occupied with her father.

"How was she?" Elizabeth asked as she walked up, looking over at her husband and daughter, who were currently comparing notes on what they had done with their evening, both of them talking animatedly with their hands.

"Wonderful. Great. Fabulous," Rodney said hastily, clearly ready to make an escape as fast as humanly possible, just in case the kid decided to try and cling to him like an octopus again, "We had a _great_ time. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an early day tomorrow and-"

Elizabeth raised her hand, "Say no more, Rodney."

"Right. Good. Excellent," Rodney said quickly as he snapped up his notes and made for the door, "I'll see you both in the morning."

John and Elizabeth stared after the physicist who had just departed for a few moments before the Colonel spoke.

"How long do you think it'll take him to realize he just left his own quarters?"

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A/N:I babysat recently. Blame that for this story.

I know horrible little children _just_ like that one.

After writing Daddy!McKay, I felt like I had to show the _other_ side of the coin. Plus, I wanted to break out of my McKadman!Fic writing phase.

For about an hour and a half after this was first posted, this story was Weirlenka (I've been meaning to write something like that since Reefgirl requested it) but after posting it and giving it a good long look, I decided that it _had_ to be ShWeir. There was just no escaping the fact that I wrote John's daughter without realizing it.

Always wanted to try my hand at Sparky ('twas the very first Atlantis ship that I ever got behind) and now I have, in a round about way.

The McShep and McWeir shippers are going to eat me alive for this, I can feel it.

Partially inspired by the story 'Nen' which is by ddoskocil (I highly recommend it) and listening to 'Robin Williams: Live At The Met' more times than I should. It's my favorite performance of his of _all_ time. Go download it.

Anyways, any giggles this time out?

Oh, and -self pimpage- I write lots of humorous SGA fics, so if you're in the mood to laugh, take a looksie at my stories.

Even the McKadman ones...seriously, I can turn you into a shipper -lifts and wiggles left eyebrow-


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